


Sunday Dinner

by MarkDoesStuff



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, clearly the most important topic of our time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:18:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3127592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarkDoesStuff/pseuds/MarkDoesStuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the lovely Amanda, who wrote: "In Supernatural’s Changing Channels, Gabriel said “What you guys call the Apocalypse, I used to call Sunday dinner.” So my prompt is: Sunday dinner. With God and the archangels. Must have Raphael, Gabriel, Michael, and Lucifer; you may include any other angels as well (maybe it’s Heaven-wide?), but it has to have those four and God. And it probably goes as well as you’d expect with that combination. Played for pain or comedy or both is your choice." </p>
<p>This is the result of said prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Dinner

Gabriel would later be able to faithfully claim that the term "deafening silence" was born of this particular dinner. No one would believe him because such a contradictory term had no real meaning to anyone else. But as Gabriel stared at his father, opposite him at the head of the table, his brothers glared at one another, their angel minds whirring in rage and anger. Because they could hear one another without ever moving their mouths, the silence was painful, so much so that Gabriel felt it blurred into a kind of metaphysical white noise. His face contorted in agony briefly when Lucifer's voice pitched high, and he looked to his father for relief.

"Father, please," Gabriel begged. "You've got to stop them."

God held up a hand to his son, a gesture that Gabriel had become used to in the last few eons, and his heart sank. "No, Gabriel," He said. "I need to hear this one out."

The silence continued. For five minutes? For an hour? How many years had passed down on Earth in the interim? Time was relative for angels, and never had Gabriel wished so much that this wasn't true. He longed to expire while listening to this endless bullshit, but it could never be that easy for him. It never was.

"So that's your argument?" Michael said, the first to speak aloud in what felt like a few centuries. "Your argument is that we need change?"

"What's wrong with that?" Raphael replied. "We cannot cling to this outdated sense of entitlement concerning the things we love."

"Oh, that's rich," Lucifer said, butting in. He rolled his eyes and said, "Not that I'm complaining about its existence. It gives me another tool in Hell, and I can't complain about that." 

Raphael scoffed. "This is why we allowed you out of that cesspit of sin and treachery? So you could talk about your tools of torment?"

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Michael began, "but I think I agree with Lucifer."

Lucifer dramatically held a hand up to his hear. "Who?  _Me_?" he said, feigning shock. "God's favorite son agrees with his least favorite progeny?"

"Who said I have a favorite?" God interjected. "I love all my sons equally." He turned to look at Gabriel, and Gabriel heard his father's voice in his head.  _I don't care for Lucifer_ , he told him.

"Is this really necessary?" Gabriel yelled, and they all turned to him. "Do we have to do this every time we meet?"

"It's not like you're contributing," Raphael said, irritation in his eyes. "Do you think the  _Star Wars_  prequel films are necessary or not? It's a simple question, Gabriel. Even you should be able to answer it."

God chuckled. And Gabriel put his head in his hands, his heart aching. He'd rather have an apocalypse than another Sunday dinner with these terrors.


End file.
